Regrets
by R. Patil
Summary: Shunsui defeats Stark at a cost; part of his soul, and possibly Nanao.
1. Chapter 1

Takes place during and after Manga Ch.373, and goes completely A.U. from there.

REGRETS

By

R. Patil

Ise Nanao-fukutaicho stepped into the alley. Once her feet hit asphalt, the senkaimon behind her closed. She felt before she saw; a dozen frightening reiatsu a hundred feet above. She tried to sense identities; half the powers felt like a mixture of shinigami and hollow—Had none of the espada fallen? Opening her senses further, she felt the other taicho and fukutaicho on the ground—many weakened, tire, battered—but all accounted for. Even Her Taicho had fallen! Bracing herself, she looked out onto the street…

Soi-Fon-taicho was being aided (her arm was missing!) by a very large, obese man with pink hair and a hybrid reiatsu. Had an espada turned traitor and joined their side?

That was irrelevant. Nanao's only job was to make herself known to the highest-ranking taicho. She felt the Soutaichou somewhere above her. She very delicately went up while staying hidden. The senkaimon output was camoflaged, she suppressed her reiatsu as far as she could. The Kidou Corps, working with Division Twelve, Third-seat Akon and the secret remote squad liason had developed a weapon that could destroy any King's Keys in existence—both the original, made by Heaven, and the replica Aizen Sosuke was trying to make. It would also destroy anyone near either key, including Aizen, the espada, the shinigami, and probably all of the real Karakura town. So: weapon of last resort. Unfortunately, observers showed Aizen's forces moved just before it could be finished. So, Nanao and Sasakibe-fukutaicho stayed behind to oversee the last of the efforts. If the weapon—Pennance—had to be used, Sasakibe-san would take control of the Gotei-13: there would still be souls to ferry, and hollow preying on them. Nanao, as one of the highest kidou masters in the Gotei-13, ensured the orderly and rapid use of the Kidou Corps in the weapon's creation.

Her arrival on the battlefield meant the final option was available. She had a quiet link maintained with Sasakibe-fukutaicho; If she gave the signal, Pennance would alight.

Before she left the shade between the buildings, she paused; The Soutaicho was standing in mid-air, being faced by the three traitors. There was no way she could get a signal to him without the enemy noticing. She could try and act like she'd been there the whole time, but Tousen, Ichimaru, and Aizen were observant, and surely noted everyone on the battlefield from the start. She wasn't powerful enough to pass herself off as reinforcements. If she were seen, the enemy would know something had changed. Pershaps if she could make herself know to one of the captains, they could find a subtle way to communicate with Yamamoto. She started towards Soi-Fon and the large man, and was nearly bowled over by a flood of spiritual pressure. Two battles raged; in each field, and individual matching previous reports of espada (dressed all in white, mask fagments visible) fought against other opponents, all wearing what might be called "living-world eccentric," and all with hybrid reiatsu. The male espada was dodging attacks from a giant club, while the female espada traded blows with two young girls. There was something familiar about one of them…

It was a fine balance, summoning only enough reiatsu of her own to stand, to move, while not flaring and risk being seen. Fortunatly, Nanao had spent her whole life being invisible.

She had been the youngest member of Squad Eight ever, and one of the youngest children ever admitted to the Gotei-13. Most her age get the label "genius," and get put on the fast-track to captaincy. Nanao, though, stayed in her squad, rose to vice-captaincy, and stayed there. She didn't want glory, or power. She wanted to be good at what she did. And she was terrified of being wrong. She let the taicho, with their unending _confidence_, command the squads. She simply ran her squad by the book, because that's what her taicho and her squad-mates neeed.

Wordlessly, she reached Soi-Fon-taicho's field of view. Notice, surprise, acknowledgement all flashed in the shorter woman's eyes. Immediately, Nanao ducked into the alley to her left. She heard the giant's gentle voice say "Mm? I almost thought someone was there. My mistake."

And then the world exploded. She was slammed into the wall by a tidal wave of spiritual pressure. Finally, it appeared Her Taicho decided to take something in this life seriously.

***

Stark was interrupted in killing the interlopers "Rose" and "Love" by a sword running through his chest. For a moment, he felt the added pressure, the difficulty breathing, the loss of motor control. He looked down—

…and there was nothing. No bloody blade, no growing red stain, no searing pain—nothing. Looking behind him, he saw only the lazy captain from earlier. "Was that some kind of attack? Pretty pathetic." They continued to face eachother in silence. And Stark still felt that pressure on his chest.

The shinigami was just standing there, swords ready at his sides, just _looking_ at him. "Oh, that wasn't an attack, was it? That was just your intent." A slight nod was his only response. "*Sigh* You take _this long_ to make it interesting? I told you we can't wait anymore. Come on, then, all of you. Come to die." Stark readied his pack, his explosive wolf-selves. But as he and the interlopers took their stances, the captain gave a slight shake of his head.

The one with the club called "Uh, you sure you want us to stay out of this, Shunsui?" This time, a slight nod. The blond one said quietly "Yeah, he's got it. Let's move away." And they were alone. Finally, the lazy captain spoke.

"Stark Coyote, Lillynette Gingerback, I must ask you humbly to forgive me." He gave a slight bow. "I despise fighting, and in my aversion I believe I have not taken you seriously enough. I had not meant to insult you."

"So? Prove you're taking us seriously now."

Shunsui crossed his swords before him, the edges of each facing Stark.

"The flower wind stills, the God of Heaven braces, trembles…"

The wind around both of them picked up.

"The flower skies crash down; the Demon of Hell, laughing, weeps blood…"

The wind became erratic and wild.

"Bankai. Heaven's Madness."

The twin blades vaporized in those final words…

The air was perfectly still. The wind hadn't simply died down; it had ended altogether. The natural breeze from the North that had waxed and waned throughout the battle had ceased. The only sounds were the small piles of shifting rubble beneath them.

Too quiet. Too still.

Howling and explosions to his left, and he saw his wolves being picked up, as if carried by a wave. Each was being torn open before vanishing in fire and pain. Stark scattered what he could before he had to dodge the wave himself. Then, he sent the pack against the captain.

From all sides they converged. Stark sent them in from every angle; from before and behind, from left and right, from above and below. Shunsui used the wind to clear a path for himself, then used his great speed to evade the wolves. It was a chase from there; Stark's pack trying to surround the shinigami, and the shinigami dodging and attacking to prevent it. It continued from rooftop to street to the boundaries of the battlefield. In on particularly cheeky move, Shunsui slowed behind the starange espada Wonderweiss, then shunpo'ed again just as one of the wolves exploded. _Huh, _Stark thought, _petty revenge for his friend, or he's still playing games._

But Stark had withdrawn a few from the chase, and as Shunsui rocketed toward him, he allowed them to re-manifest behind the captain, catching their quarry off-guard. He only saw his opponent bring his hand up before he was trapped on all sides.

Stark's wolves were a unique mixure of cero and self. The added reishi and reiatsu allowed for far greater control, a bit of programmability, and more focused explosive power. When detonated on his command, they were fare more dangerous than blunderbuss cero. When they were destroyed, though, the cero and self-fragments lost cohesion, and thus their explosive force was reduced. And before Stark could command his large pack to detonate, a move that _definitely_ would have killed the Shingami, he felt them all get cut down, misfiring almost simultaneously. The ensuing explosion would still have been cool, had he not been so frustrated.

Shunsui stood, singed, his captain's haori still burning and being carried away by the last of the gale he'd used to defend himself. Out of breath, and in a quiet, ragged voice, he said "My turn."

There was a ripple in the air, and Stark's hair blew back from his face as a large gash appeared on his chest. Another gust from his right, and his right shoulder bled and lost function. His left thigh got a small cut as he dodged wind from that side.

Stark turned to get distane from Shunsui, maybe throw off his aim, but the shinigami shunpo'ed right behind him, and delivered a kidou-charged blow to the espada's face. They began exchanging blows, but they blocked eachother well. This served Shunsui, though; while Stark's hands were busy his pistols were useless. It also kept Stark in place while Shunsui used his sword's wind attacks to slash his opponent's back. Stark cried out in pain, then threw a cero from his eye, and the two separated, both breathing heavily, singed and bleeding.

"I've *pant* got to *pant* give it to y-you *pant* espada. You're the toughtest *pant* fight I've had in a *pant* few hundred years."

"It's a real *pant* love-fest with you *pant* isn't it, shinigami?"

"Civility is rare. We need to put a bit of grace wherever we can."

"Hm. I guess that's just not how Hueco Mundo works. But then, it's rare to find company… worth being civil to." A pause, and more wolves appeared, and Stark raised his pistols. "Alright, let's end this."

Shunsui raised one hand. "Yes, yes. Of course. But first, a haiku. I just composed it, and think you should hear it."

"Wha? Just now, as we were fighting?!"

"It's a bad habit, I know. But please, indulge me."

"Whatever." and a small shrug.

"Thank you for your patience." The captains large sword re-formed in his left hand.

"Wind links Heaven, Earth."

Wait…

"Breath links Heaven, my body."

…_one_ sword…

"Wind. Breath. No difference."

….!

Shunsui's other sword exploded out from Stark's chest, having been drawn into the espada's lungs as air by his heavy breathing, then re-formed at the captain's command. The sword flew gracefully, end over end, into Shunsui's open right hand. Stark was too surprised to send his wolves, in too much pain to bring his pistols to bear. As he saw his opponent rocket toward him, he saw all joking and pretense had fallen away. In place of the lazy drunk was a warrior; skilled, cunning, deadly, and absolutely resolute. But still without malice. Stark let a little admiration show through. The two locked eyes one last time. The espada's said _"You did well. I'm okay with this."_

As his swords fell, the shinigami's eyes said _"I'm sorry."_

The body fell, and Shusui closed his eyes in a moment of silent prayer for his enemy.

Then he felt the energy fracture, a small, bright flame of spiritual pressure breaking off from the dark, cooling mass. And then, he heard a girl's cries.

_Oh, gods no…_

"Nononononono…. Stark? STAAAAAARRRRRRK!"

When Shunsui opened his eyes again, Lillynette was standing below him, holding Stark's body to her, quickly becoming covered in blood.

"Nonononodon'tleavemedon'tleavemedon'tgodon'tgononono..."

When Shunsui came near, she looked at him. There was panic in her eyes. Terror. And pleading. He knelt next to her. In a small voice, she said "I don't want to be alone."

He put a hand on her shoulder, quietly assuring her "You won't be."

He stood. She stopped crying.

"Close your eyes."

She did.

* * *

Nanao felt a swell of pride as Her Taicho stood above his opponent. From what she'd seen, it looked like Sereitei's forces had been bloodied but overwhelmingly victorious. With their strange allies, it would soon just be Aizen, Tousen, and Ichimaru against a dozen captain-level opponents. Part of her knew that the traitors still had some stratagies yet to play, but now she felt the first few rays of hope shine through. She watched as a girl, apparently the fraccion to Shunsui's late adversary, hold the espada's body, watched as Her Taicho knelt and put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. Though unlikely, Nanao's mind began to calculate the logistics of taking the aarancar girl in—sleepng quarters, food, keeping her away from Kurotsuchi Mayuri… She knew there was a slim chance of this, but Her Taicho did have a strong gallant streak, and a penchant for rescuing girls, and that's why he was raising his swords up now… no—

_NO!_

_He isn't—_

…_he didn't…_

She watched the two aarancar bodies fall, the girl's refusing to let go of the man's. Both of their bloodied faces seemed at peace. And as they fell, their bodies began to disintigrate, leaving nothing but spirit particles to be carried away by the wind. High above stood a dark and terrible stranger. The twin swords he held looked menacing, dulled with blood, and still hungry.

And then, the stranger noticed her—

And Kyoraku Shunsui stood again, mere feet from her, his face wearing surprise and nervousness, like that time she'd caught him sneaking through a window in the women's _brought his sword through a little girl's torso in one textbook-perfect, fluid motion! _God! Her mind just realized what he'd done. That monster was not Her Taicho; he was kind and gentle, and she wished he'd had his ugly pink coat so he wouldn't look like he'd just slaughtered a child!

He tried to smile, tried to wear the clown's mask again, but as he reached out to touch her shoulder, she flinched.

Nanao. Flinched.

Shunsui saw those beautiful violet eyes, eyes he'd seen lost, hopeful, happy, angry, annoyed, and hold so many emotions over the years, now filled with horror. At him. At what he'd done. She'd seen what he really was.

And he'd lost her.

_End Ch.1_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:**

**First, thanks for the reviews. As things are, the story's written, and I just need to post it, but I'm glad to know it's being read.**

**Particular thanks to Nagasasu for your suggestions and constructive crit. I know the sentence is poorly engineered, but that's how fast her thoughts went; one right into the other, without pause. Maybe bold & italics would be better...? Will try that next. As for characterization, I figure Nanao tries to prove herself tough in the field, so she can prove she's more than just a desk jockey, and maybe to live up to Risa-fukutaicho's memory. But, however hard she really is, watching a lazy, romantic goofball cut down what is apparently a child is still going to be tough to swallow.**

Anyway, on to the next...

Oh, and Pennance was just an excuse to keep Nanao in Sereitei for a while, then get her into the field late in the battle. So, it looks like whatever you think it should look like.

Regrets, Ch.2

By

R. Patil

After the battle, Nanao was overseeing the disassembly of Pennance. Mystic ropes and enchanted chains were being re-spooled, incantations recited at several different places to appease the energies into resting, and Kidou Corps members were being barked at. "You, there! Stop! If you brush those sigils away before the others are done calling the fire demons to rest, we'll all be blown to hell!"

"Very attentive, Ise-fukutaicho." A tired, gruff voice came from right behind her. Nanao had a moment of pride at not having yelped too loudly, then proceeded to address the Supreme Commander.

"S-Soutaicho, thank you."

"I'm glad to see that, while others are celebrating our victory today, some of the Gotei-13 realize our safety is still not ensured."

"Again, thank you Sir. What can I do for you?"

"Walk with me."

"Sir?"

"Things seem under control here. The Corps can handle the rest of the disassembly."

"Yes sir. Makira-san?" Soon the two were slowly walking the peremeter of the pit, dug on the site of the former Sokyuoku execution grounds. It was a site of great power and importance, which is why there was always some gigantic weapon or other there. Part of Nanao always wondered why they hadn't put a healing ray, or something else positive up there.

"You seem inordinately serious, Ise-fukutaicho."

"Sir? I'm simply—"

"'…doing your duty.' Yes, I know. But we've just won a war. We've suffered no casualties. And we have a tentative treaty with Hueco Mundo."

"Treaty?"

"Yes. The only reason we fight Hollow is that they feed on human souls. But, thanks to an idea of one of our living-world allies, a rogue mod-soul no less, Uraharra Kisuke is working on a way to convert reishi into sustenance suitable for hollow. Combined with rule of Hueco Mundo passing to the most powerful surviving Aarancar, Neliel Tuu Osterwaank, we have a real chance at peace.

"I see."

"Yes. Also, so many of our shinigami surpassed expectation. That Mastumoto-fukutaicho and Kira-fukutaicho had a plan since summer to defeat Ichimaru Gin! Truly admirable."

"So Kira-fukutaicho will recover fully?"

"Hmm… using his own body to intercept Ichimaru's sword, then making it thousands of times heavier so even a hollowfied shinigami can't use it was very damaging. But yes, with regular therapies, he should be up to snuff in a year or so. Until then, he's a hero to his squad."

Nanao felt a twinge of relief: Kira had been through so much betrayal this past year. It was time he had something good happen.

Yamamoto continued "With the celebratory atmosphere, one would normally expect _your_ taicho to be chairman of the festivities, but no one from Squad Eight has seen him since we returned from Karakura. Though quiet, I can still sense his reiatsu within the squad barracks. I don't think he's left his quarters."

Nanao had nothing to say.

"Typically, Ise-fukutaicho, _you're_ the one buried at the office, and Kyouraku-taicho is off hiding in his own escapes." The old man kept a silent pause before continuing, "So why are _you_ hiding, Ise-san?"

She was so stunned by the directness of the question that she failed to notice the familiar address. "Um, I… th-there's still work to do—"

"You're horrified at what he did."

"…She was a hollow, Sir. I'm sure the situation warranted—"

"You don't really believe the killing of an apparently defenseless fraccion was necessary."

"I don't second-guess my taicho's decisions."

"You're afraid of how cruel and vicious he really might be, under all that nonsense." His tone showed intolerance for anything but direct honesty. Unable to deny it, but unable to voice her doubts about her captain, she remained silent.

Yamamoto took up speaking again "When the other Espada released their true powers, they drew their swords. When Stark released his full abilities, he called Lillynette to him, and they merged. Instead of manifesting as a sword, his abilities had split off into a separate, sentient being."

Nanao considered that. Enough power to create an independent entity? Nobody in Sereitei had that much reiatsu. And if Lillynette were independent enough, then there might have been enough consciousness to revert to her previous state, like a zampaktuo when its shinigami dies. But she would still have only been a fragment of her previous self. Worse than surviving a loved one's death; this was a spiritual lobotomy. To be, literally, a shadow of her former self. Death would be...

Oh, Gods.

She dimly heard the Soutaicho's voice echo her thoughts. "Your taicho is a merciful man, even when it costs him part of his soul." When she focused on Yamamoto again, he simply said "Go."

He looked at the space she'd shunpo'd away from, hoping she could alleviate some of his old student's suffering. The Soutaicho didn't believe in coddling his warriors in any way, but he had to ensure their well-being to some degree if they were going to grow as leaders and combatants. He went over his mental list, and decided Kommamura-Taicho was the next he needed to touch

base with.

* * *

Third seat Enjoji Tatsufasa sat on his knees next to the Eighth squad offices. He was bored, and really wished he was out celebrating with the rest of the squad. But he had a nagging feeling he might be needed.

The heroes returned from the living world around mid-day, and now the sky was beginning to turn orange. Kyouraku-Taicho had entered the squad's grounds without his trademark hat or coat, or even his captain's haori. He'd looked so ravishing in his common soldier's uniform that several women (and one of the men) simply fainted. As he approached the office, the taicho addressed the squad; "Yes, the reports are true. We've won." A cheer rose among the company. "Now, the parties have already started. Get out there and show them how we play!" The dozens of shinigami began to disperse, gone to dress up or find friends in other companies. Enjoji paused a moment before turning away, noticing that he didn't have to step aside for the chest-high juggernaut he reported to.

"Um, excuse me Taicho. Where's Ise-fukutaicho?"

The captain paused a long moment, then said far more quietly than the Enjoji had ever heard him speak, "Out." He moved into the building's interior, and the door slid closed behind.

Maybe it was how quiet Taicho was. Maybe the uncharacteristic darkness in his face. He didn't dare go in; the captain had clearly dismissed the whole company. But something was wrong, and a good soldier stayed where he or she might be needed. So, he'd stood at ease under the awning. After the voices passing by the barracks' entrance began slurred singing, he'd stepped into the courtyard and began practicing his sword forms. When he thought he'd practiced enough (and shortly after his zanpaktuo said _it_ was getting bored) he simply sat his tall, beefy self under the awning, with the office door to his left and the courtyard to his right.

Despite his efforts, he couldn't hear what was happening inside the office. He could hear everything else, though, and he occupied himself deciding whether to hit the cicada in that tree over there or the guy on the other side of the far wall who'd been singing the same verse of the same song for the last quarter of an hour. It was around this time that Ise-fukutaicho appeared.

Standing to attention, Enjoji was addressed by his superior.

"Third seat. Is Kyouraku-taicho—"

"Dismissed the squad and entered the office. That was nearly five hours ago. No movement or sound since."

A rare smile rewarded his efforts. "Thank you, Enjoji-san, for waiting here."

"It's what I do, Fukutaicho."

"Go. Enjoy the evening."

"Hai, Fukutaicho."

As he walked away, his lieutenant called after him. "Soi-Fon-taicho fought valiantly, and seems to be in good spirits. You should give her your regards."

Enjoji replied "Thank you, Fukutaicho." He headed out the gate and turned left, in the direction of Squad Two. And _this_ time, he promised himself, he wouldn't get into a fistfight with Oomaeda-fukutaicho. He could swear that guy had a crush on Soi-Fon-taicho, too.

* * *

Each squad tended to reflect its captain's personalities; Unohona's was graceful, Kuchiki's was formal, Kurotsuchi's was sociopathic. Eighth Squad was open and informal, and always eager to make merry. Which was why, in her decades as fukutaicho, Ise Nanao had never seen the office this dark. The work left on the desks, the stillness of the building, the oppressive atmosphere; all made Nano feel the place had been haunted longer than she'd been alive. Continuing through the corridors to her captain's quarters, she didn't know what she was looking for, what she'd find, or what she expected to do.

She often said she was horrified when she saw her captain after a night of drinking, passed out in various locations, positions, and states of undress. She would later consider how overused that word was, for what she saw when she reached the captain's room really horrifed her. The room was as dark as possible; only the joints of the shutters let in a smattering of light. Her captain's secret stash of sake was open, and almost empty. Even on his best benders, her taicho drank no more than six bottles. Twelve of his Secret Fifteen lay on the desk or floor, their contents consumed, never to be enjoyed. He was laid out by the dead fireplace in the middle of the adjoining room. He'd passed out, but he seemed to be in the grip of a nightmare—he made low grunting and moaning sounds. His hand twitched a little, grabbing weakly at something that wasn't there, and his head slumped to the other side, not alleviating his uncomfortably crumpled position.

She did the most familiar thing; walk over, stand over him, and shake him awake. Only this time, he didn't get up. He came closer to the surface, but his eyes didn't open. She only made out the word "sorry" from the slightly louder babble. She knelt down and slapped him, but his eyes only opened slightly, unfocused pupils swimming aimlessly behind the lids. If she hit him with her book, she might do more damage. So, next plan. She grabbed him as gently as she could and she dragged him into the bathroom. She prepared three buckets; two with water-- one heated and the other cooled using kido. Then she got on her knees, hefted one of Shunsui's arms across her shoulders, got his lolling head over the third, empty bucket, and shoved two fingers down his throat. He immediately puked about a cup of clear, watery fluid, filling the room with the odor of bile and sake. After she was sure he'd done, she grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of his head and dunked his face in the cold water. A beat, then she pulled him up long enough for him to catch a breath, and down into the hot water. Back and forth, a dozen times, until he sputtered and used his own strength to keep from going under again. Nanao relented.

He didn't look up. His eyes were a little more focused, and with great effort, he said "…y're noda' th'party."

Quietly, she responded "I was needed elsewhere."

He closed his eyes. After a labored breath, he said "Not here. Thr's only… monst'rs … here."

"No, sir. There's you, and there's me. That's all."

Regaining some strength, he commanded "Ise-fukutaicho, I _order_ you to attend th' festiviv-iv.."

"No sir."

This got his attention. He looked sidelong at her, and with a slightly cocked eyebrow, said "Y'don' disobey. Ever."

"…Things change."

Shunsui was too drunk and empty to say anything else. After a moment, Nanao helped him to his feet and said "Come on. I'm taking you to bed."

Despite his obvious effort to stand, he still quipped "Y'don' know how long've been… wanin'… t'hear that."

If he was able to make even a feeble suggestive joke, Nanao figured he was past danger. She laid him down on his mat and pulled the blankets up to his chin; he'd be epically hung over later, and the chills would be terrible. She then got a cup of water and forced him to take a few sips. He passed back out without saying anything. Nanao proceeded to straighten up his quarters.

As the moon rose over Soul Society, joyous celebrations turned to contented silence.

* * *

Nanao awoke to a crick in her back. It was still Kyouraku-taicho's quarters; she'd fallen asleep where she was reading against the wall. The window let in the moonlight and the background chill that always came a bit before dawn. The room was just as she'd left it. So was the man she'd tucked in. He was so still that she didn't realize he was awake until she saw him staring at her. He didn't speak. He didn't have that thoughtful edge, so he wasn't planning anything or studying her to understand more about her. He didn't express any emotion, so he wasn't trying to say something without using words. He just looked into her eyes. Was he committing her to memory? Trying to become one with the moment in some alcohol-induced Zen state? Whatever it was, she was becoming uncomfortable.

"Sir? Um... are you feeling better?"

"...Hard to say."

"Well, you're not clutching at phantoms now."

"Don't have to. They never leave."

"Is that why you tried to drink yourself into oblivion earlier?"

"Yes, and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for you meddling--"

"I'm being serious!"Yes, Nano-chan's always so serious. Everything's so serious. _Life's_ so serious. Never mind the moon or the breeze, you should fill out reports before you die. Need to know how many times our squad says "sir" in a day."

"Sir, I--"

"'Shunsui, stop wasting time getting your enemy to talk to you, or drink with you, or figuring out how to avoid bloodshed. We've got _'honor'_ to defend.'"

"Aizen was going to destroy thirty-thousand souls. We couldn't let that happen."

"And someone will come along in a couple years to destroy _fifty_-thousand. It doesn't _change anything_! It never changes... anything." He finally looked away.

She got up, walked over, and sat down next to him. He was something short of surprised.

"Hm? I thought you were scared of me now."

She took a long time to consider her words. "I was scared by what you had to do."

"_--chose _to do."

"_Had_ to do. The Soutaicho told me what Lillynette was. If you'd let her live, it would have been half a life. There would have been no mercy in that."

"Huh. I could have waited. Maybe Retsu-san or that human Orihime could have restored them..."

"Both were in Hueco Mundo with no apparent way out."

"I could have neutralized him without--"

"And risk loosing? I can see that foolishness from Madarame-san. Not you."

In the brief silence, Nanao wondered if any of the other captains were so regretful of their victories. He continued, staring into the darkness, his head shaking slightly. "They were just pawns to Aizen. Tools. Things to be used and discarded. They never heard both sides of it, to choose why they fought. He duped them!"

"They were each warriors. They fought because they chose to. To say anything else is to disregard their free will, to belittle them."

"How could they have a choice? Aizen didn't tell them the truth, didn't tell _anyone_ the truth. They and we and everyone were all hypnotized and lied to until nobody could be sure what's real."

"Well, isn't that a little like us?"

"It's EXACTLY like us, that's the problem! A room full of forty-six complete strangers tell us to jump, we jump; to fight, we fight. And Yama-jii is so preoccupied with being the perfect soldier that he never question the _justice_ of things. He simply says 'Well, them's the rules.'"

Throughout his diatribe, Nanao felt herself grow angry. "We're not the villains!"

"Well, we sure as hell aren't the heroes, sweetheart."

"Yes, there's _no_ heroism in helping Ukitake-taicho destroy the Sokyoku to save Kuchiki-san's life."

"Nor in sending Risa-chan to be violated and exiled."

"You mean respecting her as the capable warrior she is? We lost a dozen of our best that night."

"I should have gone--"

"And gotten your on white mask for your troubles?"

Drunk, and with ever-changing focus, he couldn't overcome her logic. And he knew it. So, he changed direction. "It doesn't change anything."

"It keeps evil from winning."

He looked up at her skeptically.

"It _does," _she persisted. "For as unjust and fouled-up as this world is, as long as it exists, there's still a chance things will get better. If Aizen had won, thirty-thousand beings would have _ceased to exist_. And he'd have destroyed countless more as time went on."

"We don't know that--"

"Hinamori-san worshiped him, and he used, betrayed, and tried to murder her. Yes, we **do** know what kind of deity he'd have been. He was a monster!"

"And so we become monsters to fight him?"

"How are we monsters?"

He sighed, and propped himself up, seeming to settle in for something he'd been over too many times already with himself. "As you grow stronger, you're asked to fight worse evils, stronger beasts. And each time you have to go just a little further to make sure you win. You couldn't live with yourself if you let innocents die, but sometimes, you can't live with what you've become."

"And what are you?"

"A killer."

"I told you, Lillynette--"

"Others."

She sat, letting his quiet, rough voice rest. She handed him a cup of water, and he drank gently before continuing.

"Many years ago, a hollow was sneaking around rukongai. It couldn't devour souls quickly, so it infected them. It only manifested physically just before it jumped into a new host. I was ordered to investigate, and, long story short, I killed an sick, old, blind woman when a bony mask started covering her face."

Nanao put an arm around him. "Any of us would have had to do the same."

"Okay, how about the group of thugs I killed just after my graduation?" Nanao remained silent.

"East Rukongai, 80th district. A girl in her teens vanished the day before she was to start at the academy. I snooped around and found the gang. A bunch of run-of-the-mill ruffians who'd figured they could hold her for ransom. But then they got bored and decided she was good for... other things." Nanao held him tighter, bracing for what was coming. He continued in a quiet, almost distant, voice. "I found their hideout, empty of everyone but her. They'd tied her down, beaten her, raped her, given her no food or water. I cut her loose, but I was too late. The last thing she said was 'Thank you. Tell Mama...'"

Nanao waited. "'...Tell Mama' what?"

"I don't know. She didn't finish."

Shunsui wasn't crying. He simply wore the sadness around him, wrapped around like an old coat you can't get rid of.

"So you hunted them down?" Nanao ventured.

"Better, they walked in a moment later." Nanao pictured the events in her mind: _a younger, carefree Shunsui, in shock and holding the abused body of a once-bright future. The door opening behind him, and a dozen soon-to-be-dead thugs entering. _

_"So, you finally found us," jeered one._

_"Huh, guess the pretty thing there couldn't hold out any longer," said another._

_A third; "Too bad. She was fun. How 'bout you, pal? Are you fun?"_

_The fresh academy graduate's right hand held his nameless zampaktuo, the move hidden by the girl's body._

_"Fun? I'm a _festival!"

Shunsui's voice took over for Nanao's mental imagery again. "The punks had locked the door so I wouldn't get away. They regretted that." Another moment of silence, and Nanao had time to envision a furious Shunsui striking like unholy vengance. Despite her better instincts, she felt a moment of renewed pride in him. Hollow were at least genuine beasts, but people like these were monsters.

"Did I tell you that's how I got Katen-Kyokotsu? I'd picked up one of the gang's wakazashi in the fight, and kept it afterwards as a trophy. So, both became my zampaktuo."

Nanao was hoping he'd loose focus and switch to a happier train of thought. No such luck.

"And others. Every couple-hundred years something truly horrific happens. Some sacrifice or other, take one step toward damnation to keep the world from hurtling into hell. Pick your poison."

She finally realized; _So this is why his eyes are always sad._

All at once, she saw him for who he was. He wasn't lazy--he practiced staunchly what _he_ believed was important. He wasn't lax with his troops, he tried to learn who each one was, encourage their own individual development; to change situations instead of demanding people change. He wasn't lazy regarding important work--he saw that enjoying your time before you die _was_ important. He was a great warrior--he simply believed beauty and peace and love were stronger. And the man in him suffered through every win.

Nanao knelt to his level, held his face with each hand so he had no choice but to look into his eyes as she said "It's your best. It's all any of us have."

She held him a moment more to make sure her words sunk in.

And then she kissed him.

...

...

He tasted _awful! _Oh, right, he'd barfed earlier. His stubble didn't scratch like she'd always imagined. After a moment of shock, he'd started to kiss her back. But it was hesitant, weak. She grabbed onto his neck and shoulders and pulled him closer to her, deepening the kiss.

He grabbed her arms and forced her back. He looked lost, confused, and still _so_ weary. Nano held the sides of his face gently, her eyes simply saying "trust me." He closed his eyes, and she kissed him again. Her hands began roaming over his bare shoulders, and his reached the small of her back. She soon guided those large, lost hands to her sash, and under her uniform.

Slowly, hesitantly, the first hints of light reached out over the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3

Regrets, Ch.3

By R. Patil

She felt warm. She could stay under the covers all day. The warmth radiated out from him, onto and through her back. At this moment, he was the source of everything warm and tan and calm.

She felt quiet. Nothing needed to be done. Just the gentle sensation of lying in bed with him.

She felt the hair tickle her nose with each breath, how it was pressing into her cheek, leaving those marks that tell the world you fell asleep. She felt her lower back beg to be moved, and the weight of his leg over hers needed to be shifted.

Grrr! This was nothing like waking up in those books Rangiku lent her. They get the delicious/peaceful feelings right, but they never mention how uncomfortable lying in someone's arms for a while really is. Then again, in those stories the studmuffin seduces the heroine. And Nanao thought he _would_ seduce her. Someday. Some far-off, distant, not-last-night day. She deserved some seducing, dammit!

Her mind woke up without asking her permission, and working thoughts pushed out the wonderful quiet she'd been savoring. Looking back at it, she promised herself to try to feel that more often. Then she let her brain take over.

Was this a bad idea? Shinigami almost universally died violently, so even successful relationships ended in heartache.

She could sneak out, pretend this never happened. She would greet him when he slumped into the office this afternoon, be indignant about having to help him out of a particularly bad hangover, hit him with whatever was within reach, and try to get him to do some mundane task. Ugh. The thought of lying to his face like that, of going through the motions, was exhausting. And then later the death of Lillynette would come up, and it seemed too difficult to be honest and open about one thing while lying about another. No. Ise Nanao dealt with things directly. It was just easier in the long run.

Lillynette. Nanao felt the debate: She was a monster, she was a child. She was the enemy, but what if she had a choice…? Was this what Shunsui dealt with? So many "what ifs" over so many centuries?

The last thirty-six hours had revealed how divided Nanao's ideas of the man were. What she had known logically and known emotionally were proven to be two very different things. She knew nobody could rise to captaincy without proving themselves capable warriors, and that meant doing whatever needed to be done. But with how sensitive, and silly, and lazy he'd always appeared, she never imagined he _could_ be ruthless. In retrospect, she hadn't taken the revelation well. Her emotions had steamrolled over her logic. Since she was small, he'd been the paragon of gentle strength, of goofy protectiveness. What she'd seen him do, before she knew all the facts, was so completely against her idea of this man that she'd had to retreat from him. Then, learning the truth of the situation, she was hit by the realization that he _was_ compassionate, and was likely suffering from what he'd had to do. And yes, when she'd found him again he was suffering. She wasn't sure if he'd drunk so much to try to numb the pain or to punish himself.

She was six the first time she saw him sad. He'd returned from some early-morning captain's meeting, walking through the front gate as the dawn details were preparing breakfast and setting up the drill equipment. The look was so alien on him; he had always had the corners of his eyes in a slight crinkle, as if he were about to bring a smile to the surface. She was low to the ground, and could always see his eyes, even when everyone else couldn't see them under the brim of his hat. He'd taken her aside then, and told her Yadomaru-fukutaicho wouldn't be returning. Nanao couldn't believe it at the time—she'd wanted to cry, to shout it wasn't true. But before she could say anything, she noticed his eyes. They were sad, and tired, and scared that the little girl in his squad would be hurt by the news. So for his sake she pulled herself together by sheer force of will. He told her as she rubbed furiously at her eyes that it was alright to cry, but his only response was a child looking up at him determinedly, promising he could count on her to do whatever was needed. He smiled fleetingly at that, and said, "How grateful I am, to have my Nanao-chan here to keep things together."

And that's what she'd done ever since: Kept herself together. Kept the squad together. Kept him together.

Just like last night.

His leg shifted, _finally_ letting the blood flow back into her foot. She idly regretted not having been swept off her feet by some grand, ultimate romantic gesture; some demonstration of tender, masculine, earnest devotion that would remind her to put away the fukutaicho in her for the sake of the woman she was. Instead, she had to _become_ the woman in order to save him from his despair.

She'd hoped he'd give her romance. Instead, she'd given him absolution.

She turned towards him, saw his face in the breaking daylight.

…yes. She could stand to see this every day from now on.

She gently got out of bed and started compiling a "to-do" list.

***

The sun informed Shunsui he was awake, followed momentarily by the pain reminding him he was alive. It was a headache over his entire body, a migrane that started at this hair and went straight to his toes. Just lying still hurt, so he tried to get up. Bad idea. But the sun was passing through his eyelids, and the piercing in his skull was almost audible. So, by degrees, he got out of bad.

Upon standing, he noticed the smell; a sourness that seemed to fill the room and… his mouth? He decided getting washed was a good way to get re-acclimated to consciousness.

Something about the bathroom gave him a sense of déjà vu, but he brushed it off. As he got dressed, he kept looking about his room with the growing sense that there was something he had to remember. The window particularly… neh, _that_ was just a fantasy he'd had about Nanao again that was made unusually vivid by his extreme binge. He deduced Nanao had to have helped him the previous night since the room was so tidy. But that other part… nope, couldn't have happened.

In the next room, he found two racks set; one with a new Eighth-squad captains' haori, the other with a new kimono. The latter was somewhere between light blue and grey, with a design of small sakura pedals floating in the wind. A tree with a few spring blossoms on it rose from the bottom-left side. Also on the second rack was a note:

_I appreciate the new kimono is not your style, but I thought a minor change might be fitting. If you want something more pink, Koh-san says he'll need two weeks. I'll try to procure a new hat for you on my way to the office, but you'll have to come in if you want it. While you're there, we can go over some administrative details._

_Also, Kotetsu-fukutaicho informs me there will be a captain's meeting in the late afternoon, possibly a de-briefing by the Soutaicho._

_Remember, TEA with breakfast today._

Not signed, but Nanao-chan always wrote in the same voice as she spoke. Well, best get to the office and get the dressing-down he was so sure he deserved.

New kimono over his new coat, he passed by the mess hall—no sense dying on an empty stomach. Then again, as he looked around at the egg and meat dishes, his stomach gave a clear warning. So he settled for a bowl each of broth and rice and, heeding his second-in-command, a cup of tea. Everyone in the hall was subdued—barely eating and avoiding noise and direct sunlight as much as possible. Otherwise everyone looked fine, aside from the huge black eye on Tatsufasa-san. By all indications, then, everyone had fun the previous night.

From the sun, it looked to be mid-afternoon as he finally stepped through the office door. Sure enough, Nanao-chan was there.

"Taicho, good, you're finally up. Most of the minor administrative work is done. The scheduling can wait for tomorrow." Huh? Nanao-chan didn't put off _anything_. "You need to take a quick tour of the squad compound; a more formal inspection can happen tomorrow when everyone's up to it. After that, you've got a debriefing with the other captains. Then, you should stop by Ukitake-taicho's." _As always, she's got everything timed to the minute._ "And you end the night by taking me out to dinner—_not_ at one of your Rukongai dives, either. I want something _nice_. Oh, and don't forget your hat." She handed him a large straw hat that was a lot more bowl-shaped and _what was that about dinner?_

He just blinked at her, following it with "Huh?"

"Your new hat. It was the best I could find on short notice, but—"

"No, um, I mean… dinner?"

She paused her filing but still didn't look at him. "Yes, dinner. When two people are together romantically, they sometimes eat meals and—"

"Wha—_together? _When… Oh, last night was…"

Her voice became small. "Yes, last night… was."

The reality of their situation sunk in for a moment before she continued, "Unless, of course, you don't mmmmnnnnhhhhh." The alternate contingency was cut off by his lips on hers, his arms lifting her off the ground and twirling her around. When he finally let her down, her glasses had fogged, and her face was flushed, her expression equal parts amused and frustrated.

**WHAP**

…then she hit him with the nearest scroll.

"I'm sorry, Taicho, but we _must_ have certain boundaries so long as we're on duty." His surprise and disappointment abated as she said "There'll be time for _that_ later." She started arranging the hat on his head. "Now, as I was saying, you can get a different hat if you want, but this should do for today." Her hands rested on either side of his head momentarily, then pulled him in for a somewhat gentler kiss. When she pulled away, she held up the tiny pinwheel she'd just stolen from his ponytail, and placed it next to the clip that held her hair back.

They looked at each other. Then, she started shooing him out of the office. "Now go. You've got work to do, and I don't want to be kept waiting. Seven o'clock sharp." She almost slammed the door behind him.

He stood for a few moments, wondering what the hell just happened? Then, as a chuckle escaped his lips, he realized he was likely going to be asking that question a lot in the future, and was just as likely to receive no answer. He went on to his meeting, smiling the entire time.

***

A/N: That's all there is to this one. Thanks to everyone who submitted reviews, particularly those comments on how I can improve the pacing, character voice, etc... This seems far too brief a story, but it feels like the necessary stuff is there. Shunsui's inner conflict & sad eyes: check. Nanao's discovery of this stuff: check. Fluffy end: check. If there's anything I need to expand/draw out/ expound further upon, please tell me. Elsewise, go in Peace, spread the Love, and may all the muses speak clearly to you.

--R. Patil


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